Worse Than Death
by Corinth
Summary: A perp targets Casey and subjects her to something she can't handle. JC, EO. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing.

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Casey Novak groaned as she woke up from a sleep she did not remember starting. The last thing she remembered was leaving her office and starting to walk home to her apartment. She had not been anywhere that would be in line with her taking a nap. It was then that she realized she was not waking up. She was coming to. 

From the pain in her head, Casey knew she must have a concussion. That would also explain why she had no idea what had happened, or where she was. She had been knocked out.

Her pounding headache kept her from opening her eyes. Also, part of her did not want to know where she was. She realized she must have been attacked. Wherever she was, there was absolutely no noise, so she was not in a hospital. She was alone, at the mercy of some random person.

Still scrunching her eyes shut, Casey gingerly tried to move different parts of her body to see whether she had any further injuries. Everything seemed in order until she got to her arms. She tried to move her left arm and felt a shooting pain so powerful that she was left gasping for breath. She did not know for sure, but she guessed that she had a compound fracture in her forearm. Now that she thought about it, she felt like her left hand was sitting in a pool of blood.

Casey then attempted to move her right arm. She found it to be uninjured, but before she had moved it more than two inches to the right, it came into contact with a wall. Confused, she stretched out the fingers of her left hand as far as she could without jarring her arm, and she felt a wall there too.

Her heart started pounding. She willed herself not to panic until she knew for sure what was going on. Biting her lip, she pointed her toes and felt a wall beyond them as well.

She started getting dizzy. Using her right hand, she slowly brought it in front of her face and moved it straight up until it came into contact with a barrier not five inches away from the tip of her nose.

She could not take it any longer. Dreading what she was about to see, but already knowing the position she was in, Casey's eyes shot open.

It was just as dark as it had been before she opened her eyes. She had never been in a more complete darkness. And she was freezing.

Her breaths became labored and shallow. She was in a coffin.

"Oh my God," she whispered, absolutely frozen with horror. She was trapped. She knocked on the lid, feeling and hearing that she was not in the open air. "Oh God," she said again, her head pounding and her arm throbbing and her mind threatening to throw her over the edge, into insanity. She was in a coffin…which was perfect since she would die there. There was no way out.

"Oh God oh God oh God," she cried, feeling tears start rolling down her face and into her hair. All thoughts of staying strong were gone from her head. There was no way she could stay strong, there was no way she would not panic. There was no way she would survive.

"I can't do this," she said aloud, her sobbing making the words almost impossible to understand…which did not matter, since there was no one there to hear them anyway. "Oh no…no…oh my God."

She closed her eyes again, trying desperately to shut out the knowledge that she was buried in the ground and had nothing to do, could do nothing at all, but wait for her death by suffocation. She wondered how much longer she had, and that drove her deeper into panic.

Her uninjured hand crept up toward her throat. It would be easier to just end it. She would die the same way, but at least she would not have to wait another agonizing minute. It would be over. And maybe someone would find her someday, but they probably would not. It would be ridiculous to prolong her suffering based on the slight possibility that someone would happen to come by, dig a hole, and decide to open a coffin. That is, if someone found her within the next few hours. Otherwise, she would be dead, and conveniently already in a coffin. No matter what, it was over.

Her fingers tightened slightly, and she felt herself losing her grip on life. It was horrible, but infinitely better than waiting for the inevitable. It would be over soon.

When Casey was very close to her last seconds, her left arm twitched in response to her impending death. Her fingers knocked against something, but not the side of the coffin. It was something small and mobile.

She released her grip on her throat, her head spinning as life returned to her. She tried to reach over her body with her right arm, but there was no room. She tried several times, twisting her arm in ways she never had previously, before she realized it was no use. And that was the point. Whoever put her there wanted her to use her left arm. He wanted her to be in excruciating pain.

Casey bit her lip and grasped the object with her left hand. With an enormous effort, losing her breath from the pain of it all, she managed to heave the object onto her stomach. Her injured arm would not have allowed any more. It fell limply back beside her, as painful as if she had been stabbed.

Willing herself not to pass out from the agony of her left arm, Casey reached for the box with her right hand. Resting it on her chest, her fingers flew over it, trying to determine what its purpose was. It was some sort of plastic with texturing in a circle on one side. At one end of the box was a flexible rod some four inches long. There was a switch along one side, and Casey moved it, hearing a crackling sound and seeing a small red light appear next to the rod.

It was a walkie-talkie.

Casey let out a deep, shuddering breath. She held it to her mouth and, praying that someone would answer her, said, "Hello?"

* * *

A/N: Does anyone have any idea how long air in a coffin would last? If no one knows, then I'm just going to have to invent, and if I'm completely scientifically inaccurate, I apologize.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Cap, some kid just handed this to me and ran off," Fin announced, walking into Cragen's office at the sixteenth precinct.

Cragen glanced at the package, taking note of the typed label reading 'Donald Cragen'. He looked curiously at Fin. "You couldn't ask him what it was about?"

"No, he was gone before I could."

Fin looked on as the captain tore open the package and removed a piece of paper. His eyes darted across it for a few minutes, his face becoming more and more drawn as the seconds went by, before he was interrupted by the arrival of Olivia, Elliot, and John beside Fin.

"What is it, Cap?" Elliot asked, concern evident in his voice.

Cragen dropped the paper to his desk, his eyes full of dread such as they had never seen in him before. He looked at Olivia, his eyes running over her, taking in everything about her like he had never seen her before. "Call Melinda," he said hoarsely to no one in particular, "and call Casey."

"Cap, what-"

He picked the paper back up and read it aloud to them as Fin went into the bullpen to make the calls.

_Captain Cragen,_

_Everything is different when it's one of your own, isn't it? I hope you have fun with this one…you know, it has driven people to suicide in the past. Hopefully she's strong enough, but I doubt it. No one is, really._

'_"__We have put her living in the tomb!__ Said I not that my senses were acute? I __now__ tell you that I heard her first feeble movements in the hollow coffin. I heard them — many, many days ago — yet I dared not — __I dared not speak!__ And now — to-night — Ethelred — ha! ha! — the breaking of the hermit's door, and the death-cry of the dragon, and the clangor of the shield! — say, rather, the rending of her coffin, and the grating of the iron hinges of her prison, and her struggles within the coppered archway of the vault! Oh whither shall I fly? Will she not be here anon? Is she not hurrying to upbraid me for my haste? Have I not heard her footstep on the stair? Do I not distinguish that heavy and horrible beating of her heart? Madman!" — here he sprang furiously to his feet, and shrieked out his syllables, as if in the effort he were giving up his soul — "__Madman! I tell you that she now stands without the door!__" _

_As if in the superhuman energy of his utterance there had been found the potency of a spell — the huge antique pannels to which the speaker pointed, threw slowly back, upon the instant, their ponderous and ebony jaws. It was the work of the rushing gust — but then without those doors there __did__ stand the lofty and enshrouded figure of the lady Madeline of Usher. There was blood upon her white robes, and the evidence of some bitter struggle upon every portion of her emaciated frame. For a moment she remained trembling and reeling to and fro upon the threshold — then, with a low moaning cry, fell heavily inward upon the person of her brother, and in her violent and now final death-agonies, bore him to the floor a corpse, and a victim to the terrors he had anticipated.'_

All of the detectives stood as still as statues, frozen in shock.

"What in the hell?" Elliot asked quietly, staring at the note.

Olivia, whiter than a sheet, spoke first. "It's…it's Poe…"The Fall of the House of Usher"…it's about a woman who is buried alive."

Elliot grabbed her hand as if to assure himself that Olivia was still beside him, and not the one to which the note referred. "One of our own…one of the women…." He turned sharply to John.

The older detective was standing with his face in his hands. "Casey said she was going to call me last night...but she never did. I just assumed she was busy, but what if…? Oh my God." He shot around as Fin reappeared.

"Melinda's fine," he said. "I'll call Casey now."

"Don't bother," John said quietly, his eyes closed, breathing hard.

"Why not?" Fin asked, looking from face to face, taking in his horrified friends.

At that moment, a crackling got their attention. All eyes shot to Cragen, who lifted the discarded package from his desk and turned it over. A walkie-talkie fell onto the detritus of papers littering Cragen's desk.

"Hello?" came a voice that made all of their hearts stop.

John snatched the walkie-talkie from his captain's desk. "Casey?"


	3. Chapter 3

John sank down into a chair. The rest of the detectives and their captain stayed perfectly silent, frozen and waiting in terror to hear Casey's voice again.

"John?" she said weakly.

John almost did not recognize her voice. She sounded so small, so fragile, so scared. He had seen her cry before, he had held her when she was upset, but the fire was always there. Now it was gone, not that he would have expected anything different. She was buried alive. Of course she had no fire left.

"Casey…Case…." He had no idea what to say. What do you say to the woman you love when some psycho left her to die a horrible and terrifying death?

"John, I…." Her voice broke, and she started sobbing. John closed his eyes, gripping the only link he had to Casey even tighter. "I…I…."

"You're…in a…a coffin?"

No one noticed George Huang approach the somber group, and he did not interrupt them. He just listened in silence as Casey said, "Yes."

"How big is it?" Huang asked after all that could be heard from Casey was ragged breathing.

Elliot shot around to stare at him, as did Olivia and Fin. John did not move.

"Casey, baby…how big is it?" John asked softly, his own voice shaking.

"There are about…five inches above me, and two or so on all the sides."

All eyes but John's were on Huang as he looked thoughtful. "That's about three hours," he said softly. He glanced around at everyone, but no one had any idea how long she had been there already. He leaned forward and put his hand on John's shoulder. The man flinched, but still did not turn. "She needs to stop crying, John. She'll use up the air faster."

John finally spun around. "Do _you_ want to tell her that she has to calm down? She is buried alive. Of course she's crying! She's terrorized out of her mind!"

Huang sighed. "I know that, John. And I'm sorry. But if we want to find her, we need time, and we need as much as we can get. Get her to think about something else."

John slumped forward again, his forearms on his knees. "Casey, you have to stop crying. Take…take shallow breaths." It broke his heart that he could not do a damn thing to help her. He had no idea how much she was suffering.

"I…I don't want to do this."

John clutched the walkie-talkie more tightly. "Don't end it. Don't try to end it."

She let out a laugh that was more than half a sob. "Too late."

Panic gripped his heart. "You…you tried?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Of course I did. Before I found the walkie-talkie."

John sighed deeply, completely unaware that the others were still in the room. All of his energy was focused on getting Casey through this. "Case…don't try again. I'm here. I'm not going to stop talking to you. We're going to find you, ok?"

"Ok."

"See if she's hurt," came Olivia's voice from far away.

"Are you hurt, Casey?" he asked, forcing his own voice to be steady so as not to scare her even more.

"My head hurts…I think I have a concussion. I'm so dizzy…."

"Anything else?"

"My left arm is broken. It's bleeding a lot."

Elliot whispered, "Oh God." They knew now that they did not only have to worry about her suffocating. She could also die of shock from the pain and blood loss, or if she fell asleep if she did indeed have a concussion.

"We have to call Homicide," Cragen said, causing John to look away from the ground for only the second time.

"She's not dead yet," he snapped at the captain.

"This isn't a rape case, John," he said gently. "It's not our area. We don't know the procedure."

"If you think I'm going to sit by and let someone else look for her, you're a bigger idiot than I ever took you for."

Cragen did not appear angered by John's words. He merely looked at his other detectives for their opinions.

"We need our ADA," Elliot said softly.

"Cap, it's _Casey_," Olivia continued, looking at him pleadingly.

The rest of the team looked equally determined. There was no way they were going to do anything but search for Casey and do their best to save her. She was, as the note had said, one of their own. They all loved her.

"Ok," Cragen replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his fingers. "I'll direct any cases we get to Queens SVU." He turned to Elliot and Olivia. "You two take the note to forensics. See if they can get anything about the perp from the paper or envelope. Then canvass between Casey's office and her apartment. If anyone heard or saw anything…."

"We're on it," Elliot said, leading Olivia outside to their car.

Cragen looked at Fin and Huang as they stood listening to John talking to Casey. He was doing his best to stay on any subject to calm her down, and it seemed to be working. Her breaths were no longer labored enough to be heard.

The captain stood up, going over to Fin. "Keep him on track," he said softly. "Help him come up with useful questions to ask her. He's not going to be able to think like a detective."

"Got it."

Cragen then turned to Huang. "Want to be a detective today?"

"Whatever I can do to help, Don." He cared about Casey as much as any of them. He often talked with her about cases over coffee in one of their offices.

"Ok. Come up with a profile, and do whatever Fin tells you. You think we have, what, two more hours?"

Huang glanced at John's back. "If we're lucky. I wouldn't count on any more than that."

Cragen clapped Fin and Huang on the shoulder and then strode into the bullpen to use a phone.

Fin sat in Cragen's chair, across from John, and Huang sat in a corner, listening intently. His eyes fell on the small red light next to the antenna of the walkie-talkie. "John. Ask if she can read anything on the lid with the red light."

John relayed the request, and the three men waited with baited breath as Casey searched for any clue as to her location or the perp's identification, or anything. They just needed something to go off of…or she was dead.

"F…S…Mortuary," came Casey's voice after a few minutes.

"Anything else?"

There was silence again before Casey said, "The Bronx, New York."

Fin was on his feet before Casey had finished speaking. "I'm gone," he said, hurrying from the room to look up the mortuaries. Huang stayed to help John.

"I'm so cold," Casey said softly, and they could hear her teeth chattering.

John looked at Huang in alarm. She might also die from hypothermia. It was freezing outside. "You have to stay awake, sweetheart. Stay with me, ok Casey?"

"I can't…believe this is happening," she said in that voice so unlike her own. Huang and John could hear the resignation in her tone, and it terrified them both.


	4. Chapter 4

Elliot and Olivia went to forensics as quickly as they could. Neither of them was thinking straight, so they were lucky to be together. Elliot probably would have gotten lost on the way there if Olivia had not directed him every once in a while.

They ran inside, thrusting the paper and envelope into the gloved hands of a lab technician. "This is an emergency. We need it immediately," Elliot said briefly, somewhat out of breath.

"Do you know how many emergencies I am working on right now?" the tech said dryly, making to put the items aside for later.

Elliot caught her arm. "How many of your emergencies involve an ADA who has been buried alive?" he said more harshly than he intended.

The technician blanched. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stuttered, her eyes darting fearfully between Elliot and Olivia.

"Just do it now. Please," Olivia said as calmly as she could. She and her partner followed the woman into a lab where she started working with her chemicals at once.

A few minutes later, she was done checking for prints. Shaking her head, she pointed to the spiral patterns. "I'm sorry. I've done enough work for your captain to know his prints, and the only other ones are a child's. You'd never find the kid to question him. There's nowhere to start looking."

Olivia turned to Elliot, biting her lip to keep from screaming. They had no other leads. There was no time to go through Casey's most recent files to see if anyone had a grudge against her. Canvassing the streets would probably be worthless, but there was nothing else they could do. Olivia refused to sit idly by, even though she was aware than her efforts would probably be useless.

"Thanks anyway," she said softly, turning to go. She felt Elliot's hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the lab. She struggled to hold back her tears, but by the time they reached the car several were rolling down her cheeks.

Elliot took her hand in his as he started the car. "We'll find her," he said, forcing more conviction into his voice than he felt.

"But in what condition?" Olivia asked sadly. "Either she'll be…she'll be…dead…or she'll be crazy. I could never get through being buried alive. And she said she tried to kill herself already…." Olivia broke off, giving up on trying to keep from crying. "God, it's _so_ horrible."

"Don't give up yet."

"I don't even know why we were talking about it, but one time Casey told me that she thought suffocating would be the worst way to die. Drowning. And now…well, she's not just suffocating. She also has the knowledge that she's underground in a freaking coffin." She wiped her cheeks with the side of her hand. "Oh, Casey," she whispered.

At that moment, Elliot's phone rang. With one more glance at Olivia, he flipped it open and said, "Stabler."

Olivia stared out the windshield as she half-listened to Elliot's conversation. She looked at him when she heard his phone snap shut, however.

"That was Fin. He wants us to check out a mortuary to see who they sold coffins to. Apparently Huang got Casey to use the little light on the walkie-talkie to look on the lid. It said F.S. Mortuary, Bronx, New York. There are three mortuaries with those initials. Cragen's going to Family Service, Fin's taking Farrely Sons, and we have to hit Fordham South."

Olivia nodded, glad to have a plan. She prayed they would find something, anything to help them get to Casey before it was too late. Olivia already lost one of her best friends when Alex was shot and went into Witness Protection. She could not bear to lose another.

They drove in silence to the mortuary, but Elliot squeezed Olivia's hand the whole way. She was grateful to have him there, to feel him there, but it broke her heart to think of Casey all alone. It was she who deserved comfort and support, not Olivia. Olivia could not imagine being in Casey's position and wanting nothing more than to get out and see the man she loved.

When they arrived at the mortuary, they hurried in. Elliot flashed his shield to the elderly man behind the counter and an expression of concern crossed the man's face. "Can I help you?"

"We need the information on anyone who bought a coffin from you."

The man raised his eyebrows. "Do you have a time in mind? I sell hundreds. It's a steady business flow."

Elliot shrugged. "I guess the last few days…does anyone stick out in your mind? Anyone acting odd?"

The man looked thoughtful. "Well…there was one man. It's rare for buyers to take their purchases with them. Usually they just pick one out and leave it here for us to deal with."

Olivia stared at him. "A man carried his out of here?"

"Yes. I found it strange, but I didn't ask him about it."

Olivia's heart was pounding in her chest. Was this the break they needed? "What was his name? Did he pay with a credit card?"

The man nodded, shuffling through some receipts in a drawer. "Here it is…Allan Lee."

Elliot took the paper from him. "Thank you so much." He led Olivia back to their car where he immediately called Cragen. "I think we got something."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for reading! So I know it's pretty idiotic of John to keep Casey talking as that would make the oxygen run out faster…but how boring would this be if they just sat in silence? We need some JC goodness! So that's what I'll give you. Lol.

* * *

Casey focused on her breathing, desperate to find anything to think about other than the darkness and horrible solitude. She felt that it was getting harder and harder to breathe. The pain in her left arm was now a dull throb. She almost wished it would hurt more again. At least it would keep her awake. As it was, she often felt herself slipping into the darkness of sleep, shock, and suffocation. The lack of oxygen was making her head spin more than it had been already because of her concussion.

"Casey?"

Casey started, realizing that she had been silent for a few minutes. "I'm here," she said with difficulty. Speaking was not easy. Maintaining her self-control was not easy either. She kept her eyes closed so she did not have to stare into the blackness, knowing how near the end was. By closing her eyes, she could almost make herself imagine that she was just resting in a dark room.

"We're doing everything we can to find you. Stay with me."

She sighed, feeling a few tears fall down her face again. "John, what if I…I don't see you again?" Her voice cracked.

"You _will_, Case. You will see me every day for the rest of our lives. I'm not letting you get away from me."

She smiled through her tears at his words. She never imagined that she would find a man to love her like John did. His voice was all that was keeping her clinging to life.

"I wish I was there with you," he said softly, and she could hear the tears in his voice.

"You wouldn't fit."

Her comment made both of them laugh a little, but it also reinforced the direness of the situation. There was not room for two bodies in the coffin, but there was not really room for one either, if that person needed to breathe.

"Remember our first kiss, Casey?"

"How could I forget? Very cliché of you to do it in the rain."

"Admit it, you were impressed."

"Floored."

"I love you, Case," he said after a moment, his tone conveying more feeling than even his words.

"You too."

After several more minutes, Casey started to sink into panic again. Her mind started going blank, and she could not form any coherent thoughts. She tried to take a few deep, calming breaths, and found herself wheezing and gasping for oxygen. After a few seconds of struggling, she did not have the strength to fight for air any more. She barely heard John call her name because she was so focused on the way her lungs could not seem to fill up. She felt herself slipping, losing her grip on life.

"Casey!"

JCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJCJC

Huang stared at the walkie-talkie, listening in helplessness to what he expected to be Casey's death throes. He saw John stiffen, his entire body rigid and shaking.

"Casey!" John said again, closing his eyes.

"I'm here," she finally said, her voice even weaker than it had been.

John looked desperately at Huang for some kind of advice. The doctor did not know what to tell him. "Just keep talking to her."

"How long…?"

Huang understood the unfinished question. John wanted to know how much longer Casey could cling to life. Huang sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure. See how lucid she is. Ask her something she usually knows. Not her birthday or anything that simple, but…."

John's finger found the switch on the walkie-talkie. Pressing it, he said, "Case, can you start the Declaration of Independence for me?"

There was silence for a few seconds before Casey spoke. "When…in the course of human events…it becomes…necessary to…to…to break…to break…." Her soft voice faded out, and John snapped his gaze over to Huang. "I can't remember," she said quietly, sadly. Both men knew she realized what it meant. Ordinarily Casey could rattle off any number of historical documents and allude to thousands of court cases and studies. Her brain needed oxygen that it could not get, and it was not functioning properly. It was the beginning of the end. More accurately, it was simply the end. She did not have much longer.

Suddenly, Fin cam back into the office. "Elliot and Liv have a lead on a guy who bought a coffin and took it away with him. They're tryin' to find him now."

Huang looked surprised and relieved. "What mortuary?"

"Fordham South."

Huang froze. Why did that name mean something to him? He felt like it was connected to something, but he did not know what. He stared at the wall. "Fordham," he muttered. "Fordham, Bronx."

Fin watched him as he struggled to connect the mortuary to the case. The doctor closed his eyes, furrowing his brow. "_Fordham_." To give himself more time to think, and more clues to think about, he asked, "What was the man's name?"

Fin glanced down at the piece of paper he was holding, the one he had taken notes on when Cragen called him. "Allan Lee."

Huang leaned forward, now staring at the floor. "Allan Lee. Fordham. Lee…." His words trailed off, but a moment later he shot upright and stared at Fin. "It's a pseudonym…another clue." He paused, appearing to think it all over again, and then nodded. "He _wants _us to solve this. He planned it all so we would figure it out."

Fin stared. "So, what is it?"

Huang jumped to his feet. "John," he said sharply, and the detective turned. "We've got to go. I know where to look, but we're running out of time."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Short chap, sorry, but I will update again tomorrow morning at the latest!

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Huang led John and Fin into the bullpen where they found Cragen.

"Anything, guys?" Cragen asked.

Huang nodded. "I know where she is. Edgar Allan Poe had a cottage in the Bronx, in Fordham. There's a forest right next to it. I'm sure she's there."

Cragen looked skeptical. "I don't want to waste time going to the Bronx unless you're absolutely positive. If we go with your idea, and it's wrong, she's dead."

John flinched noticeably at the strong words, but Huang went on. "He told us what he did to Casey with the passage from the story. He bought a coffin from the town Poe lived in. His credit card is in the name Allan Lee. I thought that was a strange spelling for his first name, since it's usually spelled a-l-l-e-n or a-l-a-n, but he took it from Poe. And Lee, it's like Annabel Lee in the poem about his wife. Another reference to a woman meeting an untimely death. She's there. I know she's there."

Cragen looked at him for another second before he said, "Let's bring her home."

They all ran from the stationhouse to their cars, seeing Melinda approaching them.

"Come with me!" Cragen called to her, and she hurried over without a question.

"If you're right about this," John said to Huang, "I'll owe you for the rest of my life."

Huang shook his head, getting into Cragen's car. "I just want to find her. Just like you. If I'm right, you owe me nothing."

John nodded slightly, and he and Fin got into their car while Cragen started his own and handed his phone to Huang, telling him to call Elliot and Olivia and advise them of where to go.

"We're coming, Casey. We think we know where you are." There was no response. John spoke louder, terror evident in his voice. "Casey?"

"Good," she murmured.

He continued speaking to her, occasionally asking her to reply, the whole way. He had never considered the drive from Manhattan to the Bronx to be a long one before, but they could not move fast enough for him this time. He kept his eyes glued to the clock, his heart rate skyrocketing every time another minute passed, changing the number. It was like a countdown to her death, and it was nearly driving him crazy. He expected something to explode every time another minute came and went, but of course nothing happened. All he could do was wait, but it was killing him. It was killing him because it was killing her.

"Almost there, Casey," he said after another minute passed. They heard a siren ahead of them and knew that Cragen had alerted an ambulance and emergency personnel.

Fin's voice broke the tense silence. "Tell her I love her."

John glared at him. "That sounds like you've given up," he criticized, even though he did not really blame his partner. The situation was so dire it was no wonder Fin was so scared.

"Just tell her," he repeated, staring straight ahead.

John acquiesced. "Fin sends his love."

"Back at him," she whispered. Fin closed his eyes briefly and John knew he was trying not to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

John sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the car as Fin raced after EMS to the forest near the Poe cottage. Elliot and Olivia were in the car behind them, followed by Cragen, Huang, and Melinda. The entire squad wanted to be there for Casey or, as many of them feared might be the case, for John if it was too late.

"Keep talking to me, Casey. Stay with me," John said desperately. Casey's voice was growing fainter and fainter. It had been almost three hours since her voice first came out of the walkie-talkie. None of them could believe she had lasted even that long.

"I'm so tired," she whispered so quietly John had to strain to hear her. Tears welled in his eyes as he listened to her. He loved her so much, and yet he could do nothing to alleviate her suffering. She was terrified, and had been for hours.

"Casey, stay with me. Stay with me. We're almost there. Hold on. Please hold on."

"I…I…can't."

Suddenly there was a great deal of noise on Casey's end of the connection, and John looked at Fin in alarm. "Casey?" he asked, panicked.

She did not respond but the bumping sounds continued.

"Casey!"

As suddenly as they had started, the noises stopped, only to be replaced by the sound of Casey hyperventilating.

John thought he might scream from the agony of having no idea what was going on. "Casey," he pleaded.

"I…I think I…just…had…a seizure," she gasped, confusion evident in her voice.

"Oh my God," John whispered, but not into the walkie-talkie. He did not want to scare her. He looked at Fin. "She's dying," he said, breathing hard. "She's dying." To Casey, all he could say was, "Hold on."

"I can't."

John's vision was completely clouded over as he clutched the walkie-talkie in his right hand, his other hand lying tightly clenched on the dashboard. "Yes you can, Casey. Talk to me. Tap your fingers on the side. Do anything to let me know you're still with me, and to keep yourself going. Anything. Please, Casey."

John felt Fin's eyes boring into him, and he shuddered. He knew without looking the anguish that was in Fin's expression. He did not even care to imagine how drawn and haggard _he_ looked after the whole ordeal.

There was soft tapping that could be heard for almost a minute, but both John and Fin realized that the taps were becoming farther and farther apart, until they practically ceased.

"Casey," John said sharply. "Casey, hold on. Stay with me."

When Casey replied, her soft voice was almost inaudible. "I love you, John."

"Casey! No, hold on. Hold on. Casey, please!"

There was no response but a muffled thud.

"Casey!" John yelled. "CASEY!"

The silence stretched on for seconds, and then a minute. John could hear nothing but his heart pounding in his ears, accompanied by some strange rushing sound. His heart was ripped in two. He did not notice as they passed the cottage and continued on into the forest, slowing down to look for any unsettled dirt.

"Casey. Casey!" He refused to give up, even though he knew it was over. She was gone. They were too late.

His voice grew hoarse as he continued to cry her name. He hardly felt Fin's hand on his shoulder, nor did he listen to his partner's words. "John. Don't do this to yourself." He did not register that Fin was crying too.


	8. Chapter 8

The ambulance pulled to an abrupt stop, and Fin slammed on his brakes to keep from hitting the back of it. Elliot and Cragen squealed up beside him, and everyone jumped out of their cars and hurried forward.

The emergency response team had shovels and five men were already digging in the frigid earth.

"The ground's uneven here," one of them shouted to the approaching SVU squad, "and we saw tire tracks."

Everyone without a shovel watched in fear as the men worked to move the dirt. John was still holding the walkie-talkie, but he was no longer speaking into it. He just could not bear to let it go, even though he knew by now there was no chance of Casey talking to him through it again. He would never hear her voice again. His hands hung limply at his sides, and every shovelful of dirt that was added to the ever-growing piles behind the workers was another stab in his heart.

"We've got something!" one of them shouted several minutes later, and everyone started digging more frantically. They soon unearthed a coffin.

"Oh God," Olivia whispered, and Elliot took her hand tightly in his.

"I'm here, baby," he said softly back to her, not able to move his eyes from the six foot deep hole.

Bit by bit the entire lid was uncovered, and one of the men took a crowbar to the edge and pried it open.

"It's her," he said tensely.

John did not realize he went to the hole, but before he knew it he was being restrained by Cragen and Elliot. "Is she alive? Is she alive?" he demanded.

Everyone watched in silence as the man with the crowbar carefully took Casey in his arms and passed her limp body up to the waiting arms of the EMTs.

Her skin was as pale as death, except her left arm which was so covered in blood that it appeared to have been dipped in red paint. Part of her bone was protruding from the middle of her forearm. Her eyes were closed. As the men transported her, the walkie-talkie fell from her slack grip.

John spun out of the grasp of Elliot and Cragen and leaned over, dry-heaving. He had, of course, seen much, much worse injuries, but never on the woman he loved. "Is she alive?" he forced out in between the spasms that were wracking his body.

"I have a pulse!"

"Barely," came another voice, but John did not hear him. He heard nothing but that she had a pulse. She was still alive. It was not over. She was not gone.

"In shock…unconscious…another couple of minutes would have done it…."

John paid no attention to the scattered words of the others. He allowed Olivia to straighten him up, feeling relief wash over him. "She'll be ok," he said to no one in particular. "She's going to be fine."

"John," Olivia said gently, laying her hand on his shoulder. He saw the tears in her eyes. "She's not safe yet."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks to the anonymous reviewer who brought an idiotic mistake of mine to my attention…I promise I don't really think your tibia is in your arm…that would be your radius and ulna, Corinth…I just wasn't thinking. Lol. That would be one hell of an injury for your tibia to be protruding from your forearm. Haha. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

John felt as though a huge weight was crushing his chest. He had been so desperate to find Casey, so relieved to discover her alive, that he neglected to consider the fact that she was still gravely injured. Her life was still in danger.

He insisted on riding along to the hospital in the ambulance but he was not allowed to. They had to begin treating her for hypothermia, shock, and blood loss immediately or her life would be further jeopardized.

It killed John to leave Casey. She was unconscious and thus had no idea, but he felt like he abandoned her. She had been alone, needing him, and he did not get to see her for more than a second. He did not get to feel her pulse for himself, to assure himself of her life. And she did not see him by her side, where he longed to be.

Fin drove them to the hospital, silent the whole way there. John appreciated how supportive his partner was being, but he did not know how to express his gratitude. He could not express anything he was feeling, even the terror. He was frozen by the fear that Casey might not make it.

Finally they reached the emergency room. John only caught a glimpse of Casey before she was wheeled through the sliding doors. She was wrapped in blankets and was wearing an oxygen mask. Her skin was as white as the snow that was beginning to fall.

John hurried into the waiting room, flanked by his fellow detectives, his captain, and the two doctors. He immediately started pacing.

"Sit down, John," Fin said gently. "It's gonna be a while."

John did not heed his advice, nor did Cragen. The captain stood against a wall, his head leaning back and his eyes closed.

Melinda and Huang were deep in conversation about Casey's condition. Elliot was resting his forearms on his knees, his head bowed. Olivia's right arm was hooked through his left, her forehead on his shoulder. Fin sat in silence, his eyes traveling from face to face, taking in all of his companions.

Minutes passed. Half an hour passed. No one was speaking anymore.

John brought his deadened gaze to Melinda. "What are her chances?"

Melinda shook her head. "Hypothermia, shock, and near suffocation is not a good combination. It won't be easy to save her."

"But it's possible?" he asked, almost pleading.

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes, but she conceded, "Anything is possible."

They lapsed back into silence. John jealously watched Elliot stroking Olivia's wrist, wanting nothing more than to comfort the woman he loved more than anything in the world. As John continued his miserable vigil, his heart was filled with the wish that he could save Casey, even if it meant giving her his life and dying himself.

After they had all been there for more than an hour, John looked at them. "You don't have to stay," he said. "I'll tell you if I hear anything."

Olivia shook her head, and her action was mimicked by everyone else. However, it was Fin who spoke. "We're stayin' with you, for her. We're here till…." His voice trailed off, but everyone there had the words 'until the end' in their heads. Fin amended, and simply said, "We're stayin'."

"Thanks," John said, truly meaning it.

After what felt like days, a doctor finally came to the anxious group. John immediately demanded, "Is she alive?"

The doctor nodded, looking exhausted. "She's alive, but still in critical condition. The next few hours will be the most important. We'll know, either way, by about five."

Everyone looked at the clock on the wall. Four hours.

"What's wrong with her?" Olivia asked softly, her eyes shining.

"She lost a lot of blood from the broken arm. She has a bit of a clotting problem, probably from anemia…but that was the case long before today. We gave her a transfusion, and vasoconstrictors to help with the hypotension brought on by hypovolaemic shock. The blood loss caused the shock, and the shock accounts for most of her problems. She's dehydrated, so we've got her on fluids. Shock causes hyperventilation, but the lack of oxygen from her location did not help. She is experiencing hypoxia which is causing seizures."

"She's still having them?" John asked breathlessly, his heart plummeting further with every diagnosis.

"Yes. She got here not a moment too soon. If the shock had continued on untreated, or the hypothermia, she would be dead."

John shivered involuntarily, and his despair grew at Melinda's next question. "The lack of oxygen…do you expect any brain damage?"

Five pairs of eyes shot to Melinda. None of the detectives or their captain had even considered that horrifying possibility.

"We can't be sure yet," the doctor replied, looking at each of them in turn. "We just have to wait."

"She couldn't remember the Declaration of Independence," John said quickly. "She started, but she just couldn't think of it."

The doctor nodded. "That does not mean anything for certain. She was in a highly stressful situation." He sighed. "But I must be straight with you; all organ systems are endangered by a lack of oxygen. Cell death is a very serious worry. Her heart is not responding at all well. Hypovolaemic shock causes the pulse to be quite rapid, and her heart is stressed." He looked at all of them, taking in their petrified faces. "We are doing everything we can," he said gently.

Tears were rolling down Olivia's cheeks. Elliot wrapped his arms around her, bringing her head to his chest. Cragen sighed heavily and closed his eyes again, finally sinking into a chair where he buried his face in his hands. Fin stayed where he was until the doctor departed and John was left standing stock-still, frozen by his fear. Fin got to his feet and led John to a chair where he all but bent his legs for him to make him sit down.

John was practically hyperventilating by that point. "Take it easy, man," Fin said softly, his calm tone a mask for the panic that was gripping his heart.

The older man shook his head, clenching his fists tightly. "If she dies…I'm going to kill that bastard Lee myself."


	10. Chapter 10

After another thirty minutes, the doctor returned. John half-rose from his seat, his expression clouded with worry. "How is she?" he asked hoarsely.

"There's been no real change. Her heart is still beating irregularly, which worries me. We'll keep her on the electrolytes a while longer. The good news is there is evidence of brain activity and she responds to stimuli. We won't know anything about her mental state for sure until she wakes up, but it looks positive."

"Can we see her?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that's why I came. Please come with me."

All seven of them followed him through several doors and down silent hallways to Casey's room. The doctor left them, and John, taking a deep breath, pushed the door open and went in.

Casey's left arm was in a soft cast, resting on her abdomen. Her skin, which had been tinged with blue, was finally just pale. She had enough oxygen again, and the seizures had stopped. The rise and fall of her chest was almost imperceptible, and if there had not been a heart monitor assuring them with its beeps that she was indeed alive, they may have doubted it.

"I can't believe this is happening to her," Olivia said sadly. "This is…well, none of us has ever been this hurt before."

They all nodded their agreement. There had been close calls; Fin had almost died when he was shot in the bodega, most of them thought Alex was dead after being shot in the shoulder, but it was different. Casey was not simply shot at; Allan Lee had broken her arm, knocked her out, and buried her alive. It was not even comparable.

They listened to the steady beeping of the monitor for a few minutes, John holding Casey's hand, before Cragen's phone rang. "Cragen." His eyes narrowed. "You got him? Great. We're coming to talk to him now." He hung up. "Officer Barton just picked up Allan Lee."

"Let's get the bastard," Elliot said, glad to have something to do, some way to help Casey. He hated feeling helpless, and he had been nothing but since the moment Casey's voice came out of the walkie-talkie.

"You staying here, John?" Cragen asked, though he knew the answer.

"Yeah," he replied, and Cragen briefly squeezed his shoulder.

"Call us when she wakes up," he said, going out the door.

Elliot likewise clapped John on the shoulder before following Cragen into the hall. Olivia smiled at John and walked out after Elliot, casting one last glance at Casey. Melinda and Huang, who both needed to get back to their offices, tried to be encouraging to John. Their words did not assuage his fear, but he appreciated it all the same.

Finally only Fin was left in the room with John and Casey. "You want me to stay?"

John shook his head. "Nah. Go help Elliot and Olivia."

Fin laughed. "Not like they need help. We're all pissed as hell; this son of a bitch ain't gonna get off easy."

"I know." John turned to look at his partner. "Throw him against the wall for me."

"I will. Call if you need somethin'."

"Thanks, man."

He turned his attention back to Casey as Fin left, closing the door behind him. He tried his best to avoid looking at her neck, but his eyes could not help but be drawn to the dark, finger-shaped blotches marring her porcelain skin. That injury, more than any other, sent a chill down John's spine. Casey had been so mired in despair that she tried to end her own life. Strangling herself seemed more hopeful, better, than waiting for the end. It was horrible.

With no one left to look strong for, John finally let himself fall apart.

No one had ever seen John completely lose it before. Olivia had seen him cry, and some of the others had as well, but that was different. He had still been in control. Now, with the woman he loved unconscious in a hospital after the horrible ordeal she endured, he had no control left. He had been forcing himself to be strong for her, to keep her going, all day. He did not lose face in front of his colleagues though they were also his friends…but everyone has their breaking point. John Munch had reached his.

He brought Casey's right hand to his lips, kissing it over and over as his tears moistened her cold skin. "Casey…Casey…" he cried, wanting nothing more than to feel her grip his hand, to see her beautiful eyes looking at him again. He had been married time and time again, holding on to the hope that he would find the love of his life. Now that he finally had, she was quite possibly going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against her knuckles, entwining his fingers with hers. He wanted to squeeze her hand to somehow bring her back to him, or keep her from leaving him, but she seemed so fragile…he was afraid that he would break her.

He kissed her fingertips, her wrist, her palm…every inch of her hand. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, telling her how much he loved her, but he could not. He wondered if he would ever hear her voice again, and the very thought made him dizzy and faint.

"Hang on, Case," he pleaded with her, tracing the fine bones in her hand. "You have to make it. So many people are counting on you…not just me. Not just all of us. All the victims. They need you. Casey…." His voice broke, and he could not continue.

His body was wracked with sobs as he leaned forward. "God, Casey," he whispered, shaking and shivering from the worst fear and grief he had ever known.


	11. Chapter 11

It started snowing. John watched the flakes for a few seconds, wishing Casey was awake to see them. She loved snow.

It took him a second to realize that the beeping was getting faster until it was a steady stream of shrillness. His eyes shot to Casey and then to the monitor, registering little except the number indicating her heart rate becoming smaller and smaller.

He tried to call for a nurse but found that he could not speak. All he could do was stare at Casey, going blind with panic, as the end descended upon her. After all the waiting, all the hoping and worrying, it was finally about to be over.

"She's in cardiac arrest!" someone shouted, but John did not hear it, nor did he hear a nurse ordering him out of the room.

Before he knew what was happening, John was being pushed from Casey's room into the hallway where he stood without moving, fear coursing through his veins like poison. All he could hear was the sound of frantic voices. "Clear."

He looked through the small window on the door in time to see Casey's body jerk violently from the jolt of electricity that a doctor had just administered. "Clear," came the voice again, and John tore his eyes away from the horrible sight.

He felt lightheaded and forced himself to take deep, calming breaths. He would be no good to anyone if he passed out right then and there. He had to be strong for Casey, even if she would never know. Even if she would never open her eyes again.

When the voices died down, John changed another peek through the window. He could not read the numbers on the monitor, but he could tell from the width of the red blur that her heart rate was at least in the correct amount of digits. She was still alive.

He sighed and turned away, leaning against the wall and breathing hard through his mouth. He jumped when the door opened and Casey's doctor approached him.

"How is she?" John asked in a strangled voice.

"Stable. Her heartbeat is still irregular, however. We're keeping an eye on her, and if it drops again, we'll need to discuss our next move with her family. Do you know how we can contact them?"

John shook his head. "She doesn't have one."

"Well, we'll consider you to be her next of kin. You are her…."

"Fiancé." That was not officially true, but John intended to make it so as soon as possible.

"Fine. I'll keep you informed. You can go back in to her now."

"Thank you," John said, a hitch in his voice, and he went back into the room, shutting the door behind him. He sat down in his vacated chair and took Casey's hand. "God, Casey," he muttered, stroking her cool skin, "don't scare me like that again."

His eyes strayed to her ring finger which was, at the moment, bare. He smiled at the thought of seeing a ring there, his ring, and showing the whole world that they loved each other. He had not felt that way about any of his other marriages. They had been charades; he was still not sure why he went through with them. His failed marriages were a running joke, and he intended to break the pattern with Casey. It would last forever.

She just had to wake up first.

He did not mean to, but John fell asleep after a few minutes. It had been a long, stressful day, and the faint fluttering of Casey's pulse under his fingertips was enough to lull him to sleep, however tense he remained.


	12. Chapter 12

When Casey woke up, she had no idea she was in the hospital. She did not remember anything after telling John that she loved him.

If it came down to that, she could not believe she _was_ waking up. She had been sure she was about to die, and she was right. How she held on for so long was anyone's guess.

She was afraid to open her eyes, terrified that she would again be greeted by the absolute, impenetrable darkness of the coffin. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst, and her eyes snapped open.

Her heart, which had been pounding so rapidly within her chest, jumped. She was not underground. It was impossible…but she was alive. They had found her.

She looked to her right and saw John. A smile spread over her face, and tears filled her eyes. She had never in her life been happier to see someone. She could not believe he was next to her, his hand loosely holding hers. He was slumped backward in his chair, asleep, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Casey squeezed his hand gently to wake him up. Part of her did not want to disturb him, but she knew he would want her to. "John," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. She was surprised at how hard it was to talk, how tiring it was. She still felt exceptionally weak.

John's eyes fluttered open after a second, focusing on Casey for a moment before he realized that she was awake and looking back at him. "Casey!" he said incredulously, his eyes widening.

"Hey," she said with a small smile.

"Do you remember what happened?"

She laughed wryly. "Do I ever."

He grasped her hand harder, unable to believe that she was talking to him. There was no brain damage, and she was alive. He had not dared to hope it would all end up alright. "God, Casey…I was _so_ worried."

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer even though she wanted to. "Do you know who it was?"

"Yeah. We got him."

"What's his deal?"

John sighed, stroking the back of her hand. "Later. Rest now."

Casey nodded, already falling back asleep. It was too much effort to be awake and talking. "Are you staying here?" she said in a small voice. She hated to admit it, but she was scared to be alone after being in the coffin. She wanted to know John was there.

"Of course I'm staying," he said, and she thought she heard tears in his voice.

"Good," she murmured, giving in to her exhaustion. Her head rolled to the side, toward John.

John waited for a few minutes, just watching her sleep, before he got out his phone and sent a text message to Fin.

_She woke up for a minute and talked to me. _

_She's fine. But don't go easy on Lee. This _

_is still his fault, and he has to pay._

He knew Fin would pass the news along to the others, which was good. The thirty seconds it had taken him to send the message was much more time than he would like to spend with his eyes on anything but Casey. She was still his primary concern, even though she was going to be alright. He would not be carefree again until she walked out of the hospital and jokingly cut him down with some sarcastic remark.

His fingers entwined with hers and he leaned back to wait until she woke up again.


	13. Chapter 13

Fin walked up behind Olivia, Elliot, and Cragen as they stood outside an interrogation room, looking through the two-way at Allan Lee. "Casey woke up."

The three of them turned to stare at him, their eyes lighting up. "She's ok?" Olivia asked, her voice shaky with joy.

"I guess so. John says she talked to him for a second. So no brain damage."

"Thank God," Elliot said, grabbing Olivia's hand and squeezing it briefly.

They all turned back to regard Lee. "Damn…he looks familiar," Fin said, his eyes narrowing.

Cragen nodded. "That's what we all decided too, but we can't decide from where."

Elliot turned to face them all, leaning against the window. "He must be a perp we've collared for something. That would make sense. He would be out to get us, particularly Casey if she prosecuted him."

"But Casey's only been with us a few years," Olivia said. "Almost none of the perps she convicted would be out yet."

"Maybe he's someone who got off."

Fin scoffed. "Yeah, one of the five or whatever cases she hasn't won."

They all looked at Cragen for his opinion. He sighed. "Maybe he'll clear it up for us. He doesn't seem to be trying to get off. He let us find him."

Elliot rubbed his nose, his habit when he was deep in thought, and straightened up. "Well, let's go." He opened to the door and went in, followed by Olivia and Fin. Cragen would stay outside.

Before any of the detectives could say a word, Lee smiled at them. "You found me. I guess you found her as well?"

Olivia nodded curtly, saying nothing.

"How is she?" Lee asked unconcernedly. He held his hand in front of him, examining his fingernails nonchalantly. Olivia passed behind him and saw that he had dirt and blood under them.

"Elliot," she said sharply, pointing discreetly so Lee would not see. Elliot's eyes flicked down to Lee's hands, as did Fin's, and their eyes blazed.

"She's alive," Elliot said.

Lee's face actually fell. For the first time since they had seen him, he no longer looked supremely confident. He opened his mouth several times, finally saying, "How?"

Olivia looked at her fellow detectives incredulously. She could not believe how sadistic the man was. "Sheer force of will. A pathetic man like you could never take down Casey Novak."

Lee started shaking, shuddering. He was crying, crying that his brutal efforts to end Casey's life in the worst possible way had failed. "Abigail," he sobbed. "Abigail."

The three detectives exchanged glances. Lee was most unpredictable perp they had dealt with in a long time. He was completely unbalanced. None of them had any idea what he was talking about.

"Who's Abigail?" Fin demanded, but Lee only started crying harder.

At that moment, when the detectives felt that they had no chance of getting anywhere with the crazed man, there was a tap on the two-way. With a glance at the other two, Olivia went out to talk to Cragen.

She shut the door behind her, finding herself face to triumphant face with her captain. "What?" she asked in confusion, wondering why in the world he looked so happy.

"Abigail Lennox," he said without preamble, brandishing a file in front of Olivia. "Cold case from Queens. She was nine when she went missing a year ago. They never found a body, but the only leads they had pointed to a dump job in the Atlantic."

"No wonder they didn't find anything," Olivia said, but Cragen shook his head.

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is, Casey tried a man for a raping a little girl about a year before Abigail was reported missing, but there wasn't enough evidence to convict. Remember Danielle Walters?"

Olivia's eyes widened. "Our prime suspect was…Roderick. Matthew Roderick."

Cragen handed her a photograph from Danielle's file.

"It's him," she said softly, glancing between the photo and the sobbing man in the interrogation room a few times. "No wonder he's out to get Casey. Roderick claimed to be in love with Danielle, and Casey cut him down completely. I think she even called him Humbert Humbert to his face."

Cragen actually laughed. "Yes, I don't imagine he took that well."

Olivia closed her eyes, thinking hard. "So…he was 'in love' with Danielle, but they got a restraining order against him, so he had to find someone new…Abigail. And if Queens started liking him for it, based on Casey's prosecution, he would have gotten scared, and he tried to get rid of the evidence by killing Abigail."

Her eyes snapped open and her jaw dropped. "Poe," she muttered, receiving a confused stare from her captain.

"Yes…?" he prompted.

She rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. "What is with this guy and Poe? Roderick fancies himself a tragic hero. It's all in there…Poe's wife was a lot younger than him, and she died soon after they got married. His poem 'Annabel Lee', it's autobiographical. It says that she was buried in a sepulcher by the sea, so he dumped Abigail in the water. And also in the poem, it talks about how powers beyond their control forced them apart out of jealousy…and Casey was the force beyond his control. He thinks she forced him to kill Abigail because she tried to nail him for Danielle."

She took a deep breath, smiling at Cragen's expression. "My mother wasn't an English professor for nothing."

"I guess not," he conceded, smiling back. Even though there was nothing they could do to erase the suffering Casey had endured, it was good to know the motive behind the torture. "Get back in there," he said, and she obeyed.

Olivia sauntered back into the room, shutting the door sharply to startle Roderick. "Hey, Humbert."

His eyes shot to her face and she saw deep hatred in them. It was disconcerting, but she ignored it. She also ignored the questioning looks from Fin and Elliot. She was going to take Roderick down herself.

"I don't think Edgar Allan Poe would appreciate the mockery you're making of his life by comparing yourself to him."

Roderick glared at her, shaking with anger. "We both suffered."

"Virginia Clemm died of tuberculosis. Abigail died of…well, maybe you can tell us, since you did it."

Roderick jerked, straining at his manacles. "She _made_ me," he shouted violently, spitting with rage.

Olivia shook her head, staring at him condescendingly. "Don't kid yourself. You're nothing but a murdering pedophile who took out his anger on a district attorney. Don't blame Casey for what you did. You 'dissevered your soul from the soul of the beautiful Abigail Lennox' all by yourself."

"She has to pay for it!" he screamed, looking positively out of his mind.

"Well, someone has to pay for it," Olivia agreed, "but not Casey. Let's see…what's the statute of limitations on murder?" She snapped her fingers. "Right, there isn't one. So we've got you for the murder of Abigail and the attempted murder of Casey Novak."

She walked over to him, leaning down to stare into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to strangle her. "See you in court," she said icily.


	14. Chapter 14

The next time Casey woke up, it was dark in the room. Her heart started pounding even though she knew she was not back in the coffin…there was no way she could be. She told herself it was ridiculous for a grown woman to be afraid of the dark, but she could not help it after what she had been through. "John?" she said shakily. "Turn on a light?"

She heard a clicking sound and the room was immediately bathed in light. She thanked God for the pain that shot through her eyes as she surveyed the room, assuring herself that it was not the coffin. "Why are you sitting in the dark?" she asked John, forcing steadiness into her voice.

"I didn't want to wake you up," he said softly, trying to smile. The light cast shadows on his face, showing his age more clearly than ever. It scared Casey to see him looking so drawn and tired.

"Hey," she said softly, tears coming to her eyes though she did not exactly know why, "come here."

He rose and sat beside her on the bed, cupping her cheek with his hand. She placed hers on top of his, gently caressing his skin. She felt tears rolling down her face, seeping under his hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning her face to kiss his palm.

"For what?" he asked, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I just…I just…oh God, John." She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling him thumb brush away her tears. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said softly as tears continued to form.

"Nothing's wrong with you," he said. She felt his fingers trace her cheekbones, run across her eyelids and lips. It was so good to feel him again. She had been afraid she never would. "You're going to be fine. And of course you're upset. I can't even imagine what you're feeling…."

"This isn't me," Casey insisted, ashamed of the way she was reacting. "I don't act like this."

"You can't always be strong, Case," John said gently. "Let it all out. I'm here. I'm here."

She screwed up her eyes against the flood of tears that was threatening to pour out of her. "Kiss me," she managed to say, finally opening her eyes.

John obeyed, and he bent down to kiss her, her eyes falling closed again.

She let the feeling of John take her over so she did not have room for anything else. His tongue stroked hers until she fell into oblivion; he consumed her fear and her pain until all she had left was her love for him.

Casey pulled back when she felt tears that were not her own falling onto her skin. She opened her eyes to see John crying silently. She ran her fingertips down his face, her heart literally aching for him. She wanted nothing more than to make love to him that instant and not to stop for the rest of their lives.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he said, catching her wrist and bringing her fingers to his lips.

"You did. You all did. You found me, didn't you?" She sighed, finally able to smile genuinely. "You know what I want to do right here, right now?" she asked suggestively.

John raised his eyebrows. "Of course I know, but Casey, do you really think now is the time to go lawn bowling?"

She started laughing, so grateful for John's completely random sense of humor. It was so in sync with her own sometimes odd personality.

His expression grew serious. "Soon, Case," he said, running his hand through her hair. If everything went how he planned, the next time they made love it would be as an engaged couple.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Just to let you guys know, this story will have seventeen chapters, and for the last chapter, I will have to up the rating to M. Guess why. Woohoo, happy JCness! Thanks for reading!

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Roderick's trial was a few days later. Casey desperately wanted to go, to face her attacker, but her doctors would not let her leave the hospital yet. She had been steadily improving and there had been no further scares, but they wanted to keep an eye on her for at least two more days.

Apart from the medical reasons for her not attending the trial, John did not think it would be good for her mentally and emotionally. She still could not stand being in the dark and she was still prone to random breakdowns from the stress of it all. He did not at all mind being there for her while she cried, but he did not want her to do anything that might cancel out all the progress she had made. Seeing Roderick's diabolical hate for her, his despair at the fact that she survived the ordeal, would be too much. John could not bear to see her hurt any more.

John went to the courthouse, however. Casey asked him to, since she could not. He was torn about the whole thing. He really, really did not want to see Roderick, or Lee as he still thought of him…hear him talk about what he did to Casey. But Casey wanted him to go so he could tell her about it, and he would never break his word to her. He decided that he would just censor the details he thought would upset her.

He sat stiffly next to Elliot, Olivia, Fin, and Cragen who had all turned up to support John and see justice done. They all asked him to give their best to Casey, which he promised to do. All of them had been in to visit her, but they still had to work. Cragen had forced John to take some of his accumulated vacation time until Casey was back on her feet.

When the court officer led Roderick to the stand, John felt his heart pounding against his ribs. He actually grabbed the back of the seat in front of him to hold himself in place, as he was yearning to wring Roderick's neck on the spot. Olivia put her hand on his arm, telling him to calm down. He took a deep breath and did his best to keep his composure.

Roderick was pleading guilty to the rape and murder of Abigail Lennox and the attempted murder of Casey. The detectives were thankful for that since Abigail was obviously unavailable to testify and they did not want to put Casey through it.

The man was quite emotional during his explanation of what happened to Abigail, still claiming that he was in love with her but admitting that he knew his actions were against the law. When he got to Casey, however, his tears dried and fiery anger took their place.

"After you decided that ADA Casey Novak was to blame for Abigail's death, what did you do?"

Roderick smiled cruelly. "I decided that the only way to repay her was to make her feel the pain I felt when I was forced to take Abigail's life. I found her office after there was an article in the paper about a case she won, and I followed her that night. I knocked her out after I trailed her for about a block. I threw her in the trunk of my car."

John's fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was breathing hard as though he had been running.

"And then you transferred her to the forest by the Poe cottage," the ADA prompted him.

"Yes," he agreed. "I broke her arm with my bare hands. I wanted to wait until she was awake to do it, but I was afraid someone would come find me before I was done. I dug the grave earlier that day. I put her into the coffin and filled up the grave."

The ADA paused to look at the jury. "You intended for her to die there?" she asked coldly.

"Yes. I wanted those bastard detectives, the ones who helped her case against me, to find her. I wanted them all to suffer."

"No further questions," the ADA said after letting his words sink in for a second. She was trying to make him get the maximum sentence for his crimes by painting him as a remorseless psychopath. She was not off the mark.

The instant Roderick was taken away into custody, John realized how little he had been breathing and he felt faint. He leaned forward, hanging his head and closing his eyes until the spinning stopped.

"You ok, John?" Elliot asked.

John nodded, finally straightening up. "Yeah. I'm fine." He stood. "Look, I've got to get back to the hospital."

"Take it easy," Cragen said kindly, not entirely successful at hiding the concern in his voice.

"Right," John agreed. He exited the courthouse and was about to hail a cab when Fin came up behind him.

"I'll drive you," he said, leaving John no opportunity to argue.

John followed his partner to his car where the older man sat down heavily, sighing. He stared out the window as Fin started the engine and pulled into the busy New York street.

"Hey John."

John looked at him.

Fin smiled. "It's over."

John smiled back. He was glad to know that Roderick was going to be locked up for a long time, but what he did to Casey…John worried that it would never be over. He just wanted her to be ok, and he would not be truly happy until she was. "Yeah."


	16. Chapter 16

The day of Casey's release from the hospital was beautiful. It had stopped snowing but there were several inches of powder on all surfaces. The sun was shining and making the snowflakes sparkle like diamonds. The air was fresh and clean- quite an oddity for New York City.

It was Friday, and John's last weekday off. He would return to work on Monday. He was looking forward to it because he missed being around Fin, Elliot, Olivia, and Cragen, but most importantly, his going back to work was proof that Casey was alright. Life would be back to normal.

He took a taxi to the hospital around dinnertime. The doctors had been running some final tests on Casey so they told John to leave for the duration. He had taken the opportunity to clean Casey's apartment and decorate it. He wanted everything to be perfect for her return.

When he entered the hospital, he was surprised to find Casey already waiting for him, dressed in the jeans and sweatshirt he had brought over for her earlier that day. Her hair was loose, falling over her shoulders, and she was smiling at him. He thought she never looked more beautiful.

"Hey," he said, going to her.

She stood, immediately wrapping her arms around him. He ran his hand down her hair over and over, breathing deeply and letting the scent of her shampoo cloud his senses. He felt her lips on the side of his neck and the sensation made him smile. He felt complete again.

"Ready to get out of here?" he murmured against her hair, turning slightly to kiss the tip of her ear.

"Of course," she replied, pulling back but taking his left hand in her right. Her left arm was still in the cast, and would be for quite a while.

John held her hand tightly, running his thumb back and forth across her knuckles, all the way to her apartment. He paid the fare and guided Casey up the stairs to her door. She would not admit it, he knew, but she was still weak from the ordeal. He could see how tired she was after climbing the steps.

Upon entering her apartment, Casey's jaw dropped. There were balloons and flowers everywhere and the table was set for dinner. She turned to stare at John. "You cook? And clean? And…decorate?"

"I have Martha Stewart locked up in the closet."

"Uh-huh. Just so long as someone else isn't in the closet." She did her best to imitate his skeptical face, raising her eyebrows at him. He just smiled. She walked around for a few minutes, taking everything in. "This is amazing, John," she finally said, coming back to him and kissing him.

"I missed you," John said softly, taking both of her hands in his and looking deep into her eyes.

"You were there with me the whole time," Casey pointed out, but she smiled nonetheless.

John shook his head. "Being close to you isn't enough. Not for me."

"Me either." She kissed him again, running her tongue across his lips until he opened his mouth to accept her. She moaned softly into his mouth, pulling herself right against him, desperate to feel him.

"Hey," John said after another minute of frenzied kissing, "hey. Slow down."

"I need you," Casey whispered, trailing her lips over his cheek.

"I know. Me too. But I don't want to be responsible for messing up your healing." He stroked her throat, looking at her in concern. "You're pale, Case."

"My head is spinning," she admitted.

"Come on," he said gently, leading her to a chair at the table and waiting until she was settled before starting to heat up the food he had prepared earlier.

They did not speak the whole time he was working, which was about ten minutes. Both of them were so relieved to be together again but they could not put their feelings into words.

They were silent as they ate as well, but they did not break their gaze the whole time. When they finished eating, Casey finally said, "That was really good. Maybe I should get you an apron and make you do this more often."

"Only if it says 'Kiss the Cook'."

Casey raised her eyebrow at him. "I was. He made me stop."

"He's sorry."

She grinned at him. "He'll just have to make it up for me at some point." She paused, looking down at her plate and toying with her fork. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again.

John knew what she was trying to say, and how difficult it was. She was going to tell him that he did not need to stay with her, even though he knew she did not want to be alone. She was still too scared. But she did not want to inconvenience him. "I'm staying, Casey," he said before she could get the words out.

She shook her head. "You've been sleeping in a chair for days. You've got to be exhausted. Go home; sleep in your bed."

"I'll sleep better here. If I go home, I'll just worry about you. I'd sleep in a chair a thousand more times before I'd leave you tonight."

He saw the relief flood her features, and he smiled.

"Thanks, John," she said softly.

They left their dishes in the sink and went into Casey's bedroom where John stripped down to his boxers and Casey threw on a camisole and shorts. They sank down into her bed where Casey immediately started kissing John's bare chest.

"Am I going to have to get a bundling board?" John asked her, looking at her over his glasses.

She stopped what she was doing and stared at him. "Did you really just make an Amish reference?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"I thought so." She kissed his lips softly and sighed. "I guess I can control myself." She let him put his arm around her waist, his hand drifting under her top so he could caress her back.

"Good night," she whispered.

"Night, Case," he replied, kissing her forehead and continuing to trace patterns on her back until they both fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: So, this is it! -Crying-! I'm sad to be done with this one...but in the interests of my finals, maybe it's best. Anyhow, now we get happy engagement sex (and the M rating, as promised). I hope you like it, and if you'd like to tell me what you think of the chapter or story, I'd of course appreciate it! As soon as I'm done with finals (actually, probably before I'm done...I seem to have a disease that makes me do this instead), I might start a new JC story. There aren't enough and even though I love EO (woohoo!), I'll dedicate some of my passion (madness) to JC for a while. Ok, well thanks for reading!

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Casey paced around her apartment, waiting for John to get there. She had just gotten back after going to the doctor to have her arm checked out one last time. She was declared healed, and the cast was removed.

John had wanted to go with her, but unfortunately a case came up and he had to stay at work longer than he anticipated. He called her to say he was sorry, but she knew he could not help it. It was the nature of his job- lives were quite literally on the line. Casey knew it was more important for him to help the victims than sit by her at the doctor's office. All the same, she was anxious to see him.

The second she heard his key in the door, she darted over, ready to throw her arms around him. She had not seen him for days as a result of a sudden flood of cases and the fact that she had been in court almost nonstop over the past week.

He came in with a smile, closing the door behind him. Before he had the chance to say anything, Casey pressed him up against the door, attacking his mouth with hers. "Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?" she joked, even though she knew it was his gun.

"I missed you," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him.

"I missed you more," she replied, sucking on his lower lip. Sometimes she could not help herself; she just went crazy with her love for him. She did not allow anyone else to see that side of her, but she knew John loved it when she threw all her inhibitions to the wind.

He pulled away after another few seconds. "I doubt it." He smiled at her for a few seconds. Then his eyes dropped to her left arm. She saw where he was looking and lifted it up for his inspection.

He ran his fingers from her elbow to her wrist, causing her to shiver. He gently traced the red scar on her pale skin. She knew he would never get the images of her, broken and dying, out of his head, but it killed her to see the pain in his eyes as he surveyed the damage. He slowly brought her forearm to his lips, kissing the scar, all the while looking into her eyes. "How do you feel?" he asked finally, keeping hold of her hand.

She smiled. "Fine. I want to left hook someone. Just because I can."

He chuckled. "I'll have to be careful not to piss you off."

"Damn right you will." She fingered the buttons on his shirt. "John?"

"Yeah?"

Casey gazed into his eyes. "I need you," she said softly. She had needed him since the moment she woke up in the hospital, but John had been too wary of hurting her arm. But it was finally better, and he had no more excuses.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I need you too," he whispered, moving his hand to the back of her neck and drawing her to him.

Casey could not hold back a low moan at the sensation, at the bliss of being with John again. She had never before loved someone so completely that the merest touch was enough to send her over the edge. She wanted nothing more than to have him consume her, to be one with him.

As he continued his assault on her mouth, John took Casey's left hand. She felt something on her finger, and she broke away to look down at it.

There was a silver band on her fourth finger, a dazzling white diamond in its center. Casey's eyes shot to John's face. He was smiling. "John…" she began, but she was unable to continue. She could not form words. She just stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

"Casey," he said softly, taking both of her hands in his. "I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I almost lost you, and I can't stand the thought of being without you for another second." He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek.

Casey's heart was pounding and she felt dizzy. But it was a good feeling.

"Will you marry me?"

Casey fell into his arms, kissing his neck over and over. "John," she said breathlessly, hugging him so tightly she was sure he was short of breath, but somehow she did not care. "John."

John rocked her back and forth, a smile breaking across his face. "No then, huh?" he said with a grin. "I guess I'll need the ring back."

Casey pulled back. "I thought you were trying to _avoid_ my left hook."

"So I was. I forgot."

Casey was so full of joy that she thought she might explode. "I have to tell Oliv-" she began, but stopped when she felt John unzip the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing and kiss the valley between her breasts. "Maybe later," she amended, her words turning into another moan as her fiancé's lips moved up the side of her left breast and planted a kiss on the tip.

She allowed John to guide her backward into her room until her knees hit the bed. She sat down, scooting back but never allowing herself to be disconnected from John for even a second.

"Get up here," she murmured, sighing when his lips met hers again.

"I love you, Casey," he said against her lips, breaking contact for only as long as it took him to pull her sports bra over her head and toss it to the floor.

"I lo-…oh God," she stuttered as he stroked her breasts, moving his lips along her collarbone.

"You love God?" he said with a smile. "Well, I guess you should. You are Catholic, after all."

"How the hell can you…oh God…how can you be sarcastic at a time like this?" she gasped, writhing beneath his touch. "I can't even…think."

She did, however, manage to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, running her hands over his chest and around to his back. "I missed you," she said again, weakly, going to work on his belt.

"Me too."

"You…missed…you? Dirty," she said with as much of a smirk as she could manage in between moans.

"Who's sarcastic now?" he demanded, pushing her cotton shorts off of her hips in one motion. He reached between her legs and stroked her, causing her to whimper.

"John," she pleaded, her eyes closing of their own accord, "John, please."

He slipped his index finger inside of her while his thumb continued to circle her clitoris and then he added his middle finger as well.

All coherent thoughts fled from Casey's head; all she could think about was the glorious torture John was inflicting on her. She felt him pump his fingers even faster and she was only partially aware of the soft cries issuing from her mouth. "Oh God…please…please…John!" She fell apart at one final swipe of his thumb, unable to hold on any longer. She thought she might die from the sensation and she felt John swallow her scream, taking her breath away.

She finally fell limply back, breathing hard. She opened her eyes to find John looking at her. "Did I happen to tell you that I love you?" she said, trying to catch her breath.

He smirked. "Not exactly. But I got it." He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

Casey pulled him to her for a bruising kiss, reaching down to position him at the same time. She closed her eyes as he pushed into her, pausing for a second to give her the chance to get used to the feeling. She nodded when she was ready, and he started to move over her.

She ran her fingertips up and down his back, clenching her walls around him.

"God, Casey," he growled as he continued to thrust into her. She raised her hips to meet him, bringing him deeper every time. She was so overcome with happiness and with love that she could hardly hold on. She forced herself to, however, determined to make John come before her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began sucking on his neck and nipping his ear, hearing nothing but her own pounding heart and his sharp breaths. "Casey," he said again, and she could tell by his tone that he was close.

"We're getting married," she whispered in his ear, kissing it tenderly. Her words were enough to make him lose it. She felt him pouring into her, and she finally let herself go. She allowed the spasms to take hold of her as he moaned her name, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

John collapsed on Casey's right side, gasping for air, but he smiled at her when she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair. He pulled her still trembling body against his. "We're getting married," he said softly, kissing her wrist with heartbreaking tenderness.

What Casey had endured in the coffin was horrible, worse even than death. But she was comforted by the knowledge that she was John's, and he was hers, and nothing could ever change that.


End file.
